


Blue, Red and Lavender

by PerditaAlottachocolate



Series: ML Rare Pair March 2018 [4]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, First Date, Fluff, Gabrielie, Rare Pair March, Rare Pair March 2018, Rare Pair Month, Romantic Gabriel, flower symbolism, flustered Gabriel, sequel to Doomsday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 09:05:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14077500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerditaAlottachocolate/pseuds/PerditaAlottachocolate
Summary: After their first meeting at Fashion Week Gabriel can't keep Mademoiselle Emilie Launder away from his thoughts or his sketchbook. He's too wrapped up in designing (or too flustered but shhh) to call her like she requested, yet that doesn't mean he doesn't leave her some... messages. Is she going to be pleased with them?ML Rare Pair March, Day 24: First Date, Part 2 ofDoomsday





	Blue, Red and Lavender

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Remasa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remasa/gifts).



> Another piece of fluff coming your way. This one at [Remasa](archiveofourown.org/users/Remasa/pseuds/Remasa)'s request, a sequel to "Doomsday" - a oneshot from my [Gabriel Appreciation Week series](archiveofourown.org/series/924852), but it can be read as a stand alone piece. Enjoy!

_ 'Boatline or jewel? Both would look good…’ _

The most promising of Reboux designers was seated at the employees’ cafe at the company’s headquarters, a stack of papers piling up on his table, next to three empty cups and a half eaten sandwich. 

_ ‘A-line skirt, yes, but it needs to end below the knee,’  _ he was sketching furiously and murmuring under his breath, earning sideway glances from the staff and any of his coworkers who happened to pass by him. 

_ ‘Empire waist is a bit too much…’  _ he tore one of the half finished sketches, absently made a ball out of it and dropped it on the floor, absolutely unaware of the annoyed stare the barista sent his way.

_ ‘Maybe I should try a v-neck? For a summer dress this would be more appropriate…’ _ the mumbling continued to the scribbling of pencil on paper, and yet another design emerged from the depths of his imagination, fleshing up thanks to a little bit of carbon and cellulose into a slender figure of a young woman. If anyone bothered to inspect any of the bits of paper on and around Gabriel’s table, they would discover that she was present on each and every one of them - long, wavy hair, large eyes, full lips, hourglass figure and cosmic legs of a model. Any random passerby would probably just shrug, assuming this was Monsieur Agreste’s standard design fill-in model. It would take a fellow fashionista, subscriber of  _ La Mode _ , to spot the cunning resemblance to their top journalist, one Emilie Launder, aka every designers’ nightmare with deceitful looks of a daydream.

And daydreaming Gabriel was.

_ ‘V-neck would show more cleavage which is good in summer… ekhm, ekhm-’ _

He felt the blood rushing to his cheeks at the thought of Mademoiselle Launder’s chest exposed in the flowing v-neckline dress he was currently drawing, and a coughing fit followed making him even more red. Gabriel tried to dismiss this vision. He was a  _ professional _ , for heaven’s sake. He dealt with cleavages and hips and legs on a daily basis. It was  _ his job _ to make them look attractive. How on earth was he suddenly blushing like a schoolgirl, and at his  _ own design _ nonetheless. 

‘Well, this is a really promising dress,’ he was startled by a pleasantly low rumble at his ear and choked on his own saliva when a perfectly manicured red nail tapped at the waistline of the drawing, ‘but I look better in a ¾ length,’ Mlle Launder murmured winking at him. 

Gabriel spluttered something incoherent in reply, feeling his cheeks warming up dangerously close to self-combust. He shook his head. This wouldn’t do. He just needed a moment to get his treacherous body under control and to reboot his brain after the woman of his dreams and drawings suddenly materialized in the cafe.   

She watched with open amusement as he held up a finger and took a deep breath.

‘Fancy seeing you here, Monsieur Agreste,’ she pursed her lips in vain attempt to hold back the satisfied smirk. 

Gabriel’s neurons finally reconnected. ‘Um, I work here?’ he ventured, not quite trusting his voice yet.

‘Oh, a second gig as a barista?’ she chuckled. ‘I already got that you were a man full of surprises.  And here I thought Reboux paid his designers a decent salary.’

Her suggestion rendered him speechless once again, until his two remaining brain cells prompted that this might have been a joke. He cleared his throat. ‘Your presence, however pleasant, is a surprise, mademoiselle,’ he said finally rising from his seat and taking her hand.

‘Is it? I think I’ve told you I would hunt you down, haven’t I?’ she firmly shook his palm, not allowing for a hand kiss this time. 

Gabriel tried to suppress his disappointment. ‘Indeed,’ he nodded gravely, putting on the neutral face of a professional. It would look much better without the fiercely stinging blush.

Emilie raised a perfect brow at him. ‘And you never called,’ she reminded.

‘I’ve been…’ his gaze flickered to the sketchbook and the piles of papers in the neighborhood, ‘busy,’ he ended lamely. What was he supposed to tell her? That he couldn’t get her out of his mind since their meeting at the Fashion Week? That every time he took his pencil, the only thing he could think of was another design for her? That his superiors didn’t mind when instead of his entries for men’s autumn line he presented them with a complete collection of smart dresses and gowns worthy of a princess and he was given a free pass to work wherever and on whatever he wanted as long as the results would match these first drawings? At this rate he would single-handedly fill the next few seasons of Reboux womenswear before the midyear evaluation.

‘Indeed,’ she repeated his own words, eyeing the sketches at the same time. ‘And not only with the designs,’ she added. ‘All I asked was a phone call.’

Gabriel’s face fell from carefully impassive to worried. ‘I have sent you some… messages. Didn’t you get them?’

‘Oh, I did,’ a Cheshire cat grin appeared on her face. ‘Our office ran out of vases by Wednesday. My desk looks like I’ve robbed a flower shop,’ she paused mid sentence and cast him a questioning look. ‘You didn’t rob a flower shop, did you?’

Despite his debilitating state he somehow managed to scowl in indignation.

‘I asked you to call, not to arrange a garden in  _ La Mode _ ’s office,’ Emilie sighed. 

‘I’m sorry?’ Gabriel squeaked. Apparently he misread her signals and acting purely on his infatuation might have overdone in wooing Mlle Launder with romantic gestures. Just a little bit. Okay, maybe more than a bit. So sue him. … Would she though? He gulped.

‘Let’s see,’ the woman tapped her red lips with a slender finger. ‘On Thursday I found daffodils. I obviously felt flattered that you remembered what I said about French gentlemen going extinct.’

_ Regard and chivalry _ . That had been his first idea.

‘Then the yellow tulips on Friday got a good giggle out of me and a few sour smiles from my coworkers,’ she continued, for now choosing to look around the cafe.

_ Sunshine in your smile.  _ Gabriel thought it would be a good follow-up. Not too invasive but sustaining the interest. 

‘I admit I was a bit surprised to find that stunning amaryllis waiting on my desk on Monday when I got back from lunch,’ she still wasn’t looking at him, but he didn’t miss the delicate coat of pink that colored her cheeks at the mention of amaryllis.

_ Splendid beauty _ . But that was hardly news. Surely she must have known what a gorgeous woman she was? He had some reservations about the amaryllis, but over the weekend he somehow convinced himself that he might have already lost her attention. When he found it on the flower market that Monday morning he bought it without really thinking it through. Unlike the tulips and the daffodils, he had to sit on this idea for a bit, and hadn’t decided to call for the office-boy until lunch.

‘Now you will probably be glad to hear that my coworkers lasted until Tuesday, before they started with their sarcastic comments, dubbing me the Sunflower Girl,’ she sent him a sweet smile. ‘Because sunflowers are my favorite.’

_ Adoration and dedication _ . Also bingo! He knew she’d like them.

‘We ran out of vases at the red carnations on Wednesday,’ Emilie mentioned casually. ‘And I could no longer evade questions about my secret admirer. Since by then at least some people in the office had done their homework on flower symbolism.’

Uh-oh. Were the red carnations for  _ admiration _ already too much? But in that case today’s bouquet-

His train of thought was interrupted as Reboux’s office boy stuck his head into the cafe. He spotted the designer and strode in their direction with a broad grin, that was undoubtedly a result of the handsome pay Gabriel offered for the extra delivery for the last few days.

‘Monsieur Agreste,’ his smile broadened as he halted at the table. ‘I’m on my break so I can drop these beauties at  _ La Mode _ now, if you want to,’ he carefully lifted the bouquet in question. A perfect arrangement of roses appeared in their vision and Gabriel noted with no small amount of satisfaction that his companion gasped at the display. Red, lavender and blue combined into one ample bunch. 

He could almost hear the cogs in Mlle Launder’s brain spinning as she worked out the meaning behind the flowers and their colors. And when her delicate blush deepened, he knew he chose well. 

‘Thank you, Jean-Luc, that won’t be necessary today,’ Gabriel passed the boy a 200 franc bill. After carefully depositing his cargo in the designer’s hands he left with a grin dangerously close to ripping his face in half.

Monsieur Agreste turned to the journalist. She was still staring at the roses, stunned into silence for the very first time. It was very satisfying, if he said so himself. His daily visits at the flower market and then the time it took to arrange the flowers personally had definitely paid off, if it had such an effect on her, even temporarily.

‘I see you have done your homework on plant symbolism too, mademoiselle,’ Gabriel murmured. 

‘Blue for unattainable or mysterious,’ Emilie started weakly, ‘red for longing and desire. And lavender...,’ she reached to touch the delicate petals. 

‘For love at first sight,’ he finished for her as he put his hand over hers.

She stilled and cleared her throat, apparently ready to take the initiative again. ‘Well, well, Monsieur Agreste,’ she drawled locking her emerald eyes with his aquamarine ones. ‘Now tell me, are you planning to propose with another bouquet before I finally  _ ask you out  _ on the first date?’

**Author's Note:**

> Let me remind you that this author appreciates your kudos and comments very much! They inspire me to write more!  
> A friendly wave to [Rem](archiveofourown.org/users/Remasa/pseuds/Remasa) for beta reading this one. The idea of plan symbolism was inspired by one of her stories - ["Teaching Lessons"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13236141/chapters/30276501), I encourage you to read it, it's a very sweet piece of Ladynoir with adorable version of Gabe.
> 
> Take a look at my other fics and visit me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/perditaalottachocolate-blog). I tend to post sneak peeks of the stories I'm working on and share mostly miraculous content.


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